To Die Alone
by TheAUWalker
Summary: The mourning of justice, the demise of Kira. In a cold world where disease rules and everyone seems to have gone, what does it feel like to die alone? A series of un-connected drabbles.
1. Chapter 1

**To Die Alone**

**A/N: This is going to be a really depressing fic...and I'm going to be mean to some characters you may love, but sorry, that's just the way it is! Each chapter will be a different character dying alone, and yeah...to let you know, they all die the same way. There's this disease going around that will kill them. It's kind of irrelevant, but just wanted to let you know anyway. I don't own Death Note, and thanks to emmakeehl8 for editing.**

**Chapter 1: L **

From the time he'd found out that he had it to now…well, not a lot had changed.

They'd all gone. Mogi, Aizawa, Light…

He had thought that his first friend would stay with him, but then cursed himself silently for daring to hope.

_So this is the end of Justice_, he thought grimly.

He still remained in the old Task Force building, thinking about how this was not the way Justice was supposed to go.

He was supposed to sacrifice his own life to end the reign of Kira, but he had failed.

It was demanded he drop the case to figure out this new one, this country-sweeping disease, and it seemed like everyone forgot about him when he himself contracted it.

He sat on the floor, his back to all the empty desks and dusty computers, and stared out the huge windows to the brightly lit city below.

He tuned out the traffic noise and instead focused on nothing.

Occasionally, he would dwell on memories of how his comrades had abandoned him.

They just _left_, with a respectful nod of the head or maybe just no eye contact at all.

Light left with a slight look of regret on his face, and raised a hand as he helped take Matsuda's arm to remove him from the building.

Ah, Matsuda. Stupid, idiot Matsuda.

The fool had even gotten tears in his eyes when he was told he was going to have to leave L here, all alone, with the power shut off and a locked door.

L tried not to think too much of Matsuda.

He instead stirred the tea in the mug that was not there, picked up a cupcake that was molding on the other side of the room, and simply looked out the windows.

_I am going to die_, he thought, and blinked once.

He hadn't watched as they left him, hadn't moved to get food for his rumbling stomach or water for his parched mouth.

The great L was going to die, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The great L was going to die alone, in a cold room high up in a skyscraper in Japan.

L didn't even know what day it was, or what time it was. He'd given up counting down his time left.

He simply recognized the sound of a door opening, being shoved open on rusty hinges, and hasty breathing.

"Ryuuzaki?"

The call was frantic, and L almost wanted to respond, _I'm not dead yet!_

But he didn't. He just stayed frozen in place and managed to open his dry mouth.

"Go home, Matsuda."

His voice came out without life in it.

There were footsteps behind him, and Matsuda came to stand in front of him, clutching a silver key tightly in his hand.

"I thought I ordered you to throw that away."

Matsuda didn't answer, only swallowed while looking at the detective with tears in his eyes.

"R-Ryuuzaki?"

L managed to move his head a few centimeters to the right.

"Do you need anything?"

A shrill, cold laugh rose out of L's chest.

Matsuda looked uncertain.

"I'm dying, Matsuda."

"Please don't remind me." Matsuda whispered.

"Go home."

"I'm not going to let you be all alone when everyone else just doesn't care, Ryuuzaki. You can't make me go home."

Matsuda took a seat and pulled a plastic bin of cookies from under his coat. He pushed them towards L.

"I'm not hungry." L managed to say.

Matsuda looked at his feet so his hair covered his eyes.

"Oh…okay." He said in a small voice, pulling the bin back with one shaky finger.

They sat like that for a few hours.

"What are you waiting for, Ryuuzaki?"

"What do you think?"

His voice came out harsher than expected, and Matsuda flinched.

"Are you afraid to die?"

L bowed his head.

"No."

"It's okay to be afraid, Ryuuzaki." Matsuda said gently.

"I'm not a child." L's voice was cold, but it shook a little. "I'm not scared."

"Why did you even come here, Matsuda?" asked L, his voice weak from lack of use. "To come and gloat at how I've fallen?"

"No, never, Ryuuzaki! I just…thought you might like some company."

After a while, he added softly, "No one should have to die alone."

"Ryuuzaki?"

L raised his head from his chest.

"Um…I'm going to go to the bathroom…be right back."

Matsuda hastily rose and jogged towards the door. He gave L a wave and a smile.

The smile and then the blurring lights of Japan were the last things L would ever see.

When Matsuda came back, and walked over to L and sat.

He glanced at his former employer, whose head was resting peacefully on his chest.

"So, Ryuuzaki, I was wondering…"

L didn't move.

"Ryuuzaki? Are you asleep?"

Matsuda waited a few minutes and then gently poked L on the arm.

"Okay, guess you are."

The black haired detective sat back on his heels and decided that L was probably thirsty.

"Hey, Ryuuzaki? Wake up."

He poked L again.

"Wake up, Ryuuzaki."

Matsuda moved over to the other man and placed his hands on his shoulders.

"Wake up."

He began to shake him gently.

"Ryuuzaki, wake up."

Matsuda shook harder and harder, tears streaming down his pale face.

"Ryuuzaki, wake up. Dammit, wake up! Please wake up! Please!"

Matsuda started to howl.

"WAKE UP!"

"PLEASE WAKE UP!"

The blue-suited man sank slowly down onto the floor.

"Please, Ryuuzaki…"

He hiccupped and blinked harshly.

"No, Ryuuzaki…I'm so sorry I had to go. I came here so you wouldn't have to die alone and you died without a friend by your side…I'm so sorry…"

He slapped L across the face a few times.

Matsuda weakly clutched the folds of L's shirt and continued to shake him.

"Please, Ryuuzaki…"


	2. Chapter 2

**To Die Alone**

**Chapter 1: Mikami **

It seemed so long ago that Mikami was able to move.

He remembered going to the library, reading, even just getting a glass of water.

The sad thing is that you don't realize what you've had until you've lost it. And that was exactly what had happened to Mikami.

He never really appreciated how wonderful it was to move around. He took it for granted. It never even crossed his mind what would happen if he couldn't walk, because why would it ever happen?

No one seemed to notice his absence.

The librarian at his local library who he'd made good friends with didn't make any move to contact him. The friendly waitress at the coffee shop didn't seem to notice he hadn't called.

No one came to see him, and Mikami was left alone to die.

He retreated to his room and crawled under the covers with the last strength he had.

It was a nice room, with a nice big window that looked out onto a fire escape, some dark wood furniture, and a large book pile in the corner.

Before long, everything was covered with dust, and it wouldn't be hard to forget there was someone still living in the apartment, in the room.

Mikami didn't know how long he'd been lying there. He left his phone in the kitchen.

There was a dull ache in his stomach and a dry taste in his mouth. His head hurt, and when he opened his eyes, he couldn't see very well through dirty glasses.

Occasionally, his body was taken by a harsh cough that lifted him up a few inches from the bed.

It was a very painful and lonely way to die.

Mikami wished someone would keep him company, but most of all, he wished for Light.

Mikami wanted to see him one last time, but he never came. No one did. No one cared.

He was just so _lonely_.

He imagined what his voice would sound like if he had the strength to speak. He couldn't remember what it sounded like.

The one thing he concentrated on was Light, his god.

He thought all about him, his voice, and it didn't seem real when it was right in front of him.

"Mikami."

It was a statement, not a question. Light knew he was there.

Light had known all this time that he was there.

_God_, Mikami thought, and it filled him with a pleasure so great he was able to concentrate on Light's figure.

Light moved to his bedside, and Mikami thought he saw a sneer on Light's face before his features morphed into a mask of oddly fake concern.

"How are you?"

"Dying." Mikami whispered in a harsh rasp.

Light looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Thank you…for coming." Mikami managed to say.

Light just pressed his lips together and looked away.

"Where is your Death Note?" he asked abruptly.

Mikami was confused. What did it matter? He couldn't be Kira anymore.

As Mikami stared up at his idol, Light grew impatient.

"Where is it, Mikami?" he snapped.

Mikami flinched. "Why?" he whispered.

"I need it." Light said simply.

Eager to please his god, Mikami told him its location in the kitchen.

Light immediately left.

Mikami watched him from the doorway, as he had so often stared at his phone lying on the counter.

As Light was about to leave, Mikami raised a hand, and Light reluctantly came over.

"Thank you." Mikami rasped again.

He was so happy someone finally cared.

Someone finally came to visit him.

Light looked angry.

"Whatever." He said, turning slightly away.

Mikami didn't understand. And then…

Oh.

Light wasn't coming to see him. He just wanted his Death Note.

Oh.

Mikami swallowed hard to push down the lump in his throat.

He didn't care.

"Is there anything else?" Light asked, bored, hands in his pockets.

"All I…ever wanted…was to make…you…happy." Mikami whispered, prickling in his eyes and throat.

Light just looked at him with a cold expression.

And walked away.

Mikami died an hour later with tears dried on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

**To Die Alone**

**Chapter 3: Sayu**

As Sayu Yagami lay on the cold and dirty floor of the club bathroom, she sobbed for someone to come and help her.

She knew it was stupid to sneak out tonight to go clubbing with her friends. Her mother had warned her that it wasn't safe.

She'd been warned you could catch the disease and die five minutes later.

Sayu had chosen to ignore her mother and climb out of her window to meet her friends.

Her mother had warned her that there were psychos out there who would give people the disease just for the sick pleasure of watching someone die.

She just ignored it all.

And now she was paying the price.

Sayu called for her mother as her forehead pressed against the cold metal of the sink pipe.

She cried and cried.

Her friends, dancing outside, didn't really care where she went.

Sayu wasn't old enough to drink, so she'd happily accepted the drink from a stranger. He got it for her, after all.

It started with a pain in her stomach, so she went to the bathroom.

Soon, she was on the floor, writhing in pain.

It was a horrible place to die. Small, dirty, and isolated.

There were people dancing just outside the door.

Sayu called for help, but she knew that no one could help her anyway.

The loud music drowned out her sobs.

It was so disgusting in there. Dirty and grimy.

All that filled Sayu's mind was regret.

She was so stupid, when she had a future she just threw it down the drain in a matter of seconds.

Sayu cried on the dirty tile floor.

Eventually, her tears finally stopped.

One of her 'friends' was even dancing right outside the door.

So many people, and she wasn't found until a day later.


	4. Chapter 4

**To Die Alone**

**Chapter 4: Misa**

Misa stared down numbly at the white lines on the parking lot below her.

The blonde model had nothing left to live for now that Light was gone.

She remembered her reflection, staring out at the blurring passageway of the subway as her mind tried to grasp what Matsuda had just told her.

Light was dead. Light was shot. Light was not coming back.

Most of all, Light did not need her anymore. No one did.

The whole force was angry with Matsuda, but she would have found out eventually, right?

They watched her go with looks of concern.

They'd said to not to do anything stupid, that they'd check on her in the morning.

There would be no morning for Misa Amane.

It was going to end right here, right now, right at the moment when her neck would snap on the asphalt.

Misa stood at the edge of the building and wished that she had someone to say goodbye to.

Her brain had realized at some point that Light did not love her, he never had.

It was all fake.

Misa had met eyes with her reflection as the subway carried her away, and she did not think a thing. She was numb to the world, and the only thing she could do to stop that horrible nothingness in her head was to hear the rush of the wind as she fell to her death.

She'd die alone, until the nation announced that their beloved model was dead.

Misa didn't think about Rem, she didn't think about anyone.

She took her last step on Earth, and listened to the wind rushing through her ears and closed her eyes against the black void rushing up to meet her.

Matsuda and the rest of the Task Force never forgave themselves for letting her go home that day.


	5. Chapter 5

**To Die Alone**

**Chapter 5: Mello**

**A/N: In this chapter, Matt, Near, and L are already dead. Remember, each chapter has no relevance to any other. So in Matt or Near's chapter, Mello might already be dead.**

Mello Keehl liked to think that he was invincible, that nothing could touch him. But deep down, Mihael knew that he was just as human as everybody else.

Yeah, he went around with a fake name and one hell of a gun, but there was only so much one could do to put off death. There was always a way for the reaper's cold fingers to grab hold of you.

Matt got it first. It was Wednesday, Mello remembered. Of course, he couldn't take Matt to the hospital. So Mello did what he usually did-turned on the computer.

It was all over the internet. The plague, the never-ending death…everywhere. Fake cures were advertised on every website.

Mello typed in Matt's symptoms, and a giant warning came up, flashing in bright colors. Mello shut off the computer, feeling sick.

He tried to make Matt as comfortable as possible. In the back of his mind, he was praying that his best friend would get better, even though he knew it would never happen.

Mello prayed every night. He had never clutched his rosary so hard in his life.

Matt died on a Sunday.

Mello came to visit, and Matt just didn't wake up. The blonde buried his best friend in an overcrowded cemetery by himself, like everyone else. There was no time for funerals anymore.

Mello felt like he had stopped breathing at that moment. Every sound was drawn-out and fuzzy, his vision hazy and gray. He no longer cared anymore. His best friend, his lifeline, had been taken, and Mello didn't know what to do anymore.

Sometimes he prayed he would die soon. He'd get to see Matt again, and L, and hell, even the sheep. He missed them all. Mello had no one to talk to anymore.

He debated ending his life by his own hand because he was so miserable. However, he was too scared he wouldn't see Matt in the afterlife if he did.

Other times Mello didn't want to die. There was so much he hadn't done, so many things he hadn't seen. Although Mello wondered whether he would even enjoy the rest of life anymore.

So when Mello discovered he contracted the disease, he sat on his couch with mixed feelings.

At least he would see Matt again.

Mello sank to his knees and prayed every night. He didn't know what he was praying for, because his friends were gone and the world was lost. Every night it got harder and harder to stand up again.

Soon, it became too painful to move, so Mello prayed inside his head.

When he felt himself slipping away, Mello closed his eyes.

He was so, so tired, and very alone in his small apartment.

Tears slipped out from under his lashes, and Mello exhaled one last time,

He was going to see Matt again.


	6. Chapter 6

**To Die Alone**

**Chapter 6: Sachiko**

Sachiko Yagami slowly shook the bag of barbeque potato chips onto the plate next to the sandwich. Light's favorite.

She did the same with the bag of regular on a seperate plate, emptying its contents carefully.

When she was done throwing the empty bags away, Sachiko stood in her cold, empty house.

She didn't bother calling for Sayu and Light because they weren't coming home.

Sachiko winced slightly as she sat down, still in her robe and slippers. Her joints were getting worse every day, but Sachiko still faithfully came downstairs each day to make eggs, sandwiches, and pasta.

He came to visit her, Light's friend. The strange black-haired one with his odd posture. After a while of just sitting there in silence, Sachiko offered him a sandwich. He declined, only kept sipping his coffee.

They both knew her mind was slipping.

However, he didn't have the heart to make it slip any further by telling her that her husband was dead now as well.

She figured it out later. Almost absentmindedly. She was reading, and then she looked up from her book and thought about how Sochiro hadn't come home in two weeks.

He came back a few times each week to check on her, sometimes sending or taking someone else. Usually it was the silly one that always tried to make her smile and laugh. He liked to hear about Sayu and Light, sitting for hours while Sachiko told stories.

She never knew their names, although they must have said them at some point.

Then the one with the bad posture stopped coming, and the silly one stopped smiling.

He told her that he had died, and he did not try and make anyone laugh anymore.

He kept visiting her, but they became more spread apart. He was a busy man, and didn't have the time to visit.

Not that Sachiko noticed. She could barely hear knocks on the door anymore.

Sachiko sat in her cold kitchen and stared at her dead childrens' plates.

She died on a cold Monday morning, her head bent over her cold cup of coffee.

Her breath slowly stopped, and tears rolled down her cheeks as she waited for a family that would never come home.

**-o-o-o**

**A/N: Ahh, so sad at the end D:**


	7. Chapter 7

**To Die Alone**

**Chapter 7: Light**

**A/N: I don't think I write Light very well, so please excuse me if this chapter is OOC. I prefer to write Light as slightly insane, so if he doesn't seem like Mr. Perfect then that's why.**

This was not how it was supposed to happen. He was a god; gods did not die of simple stupid things like a sickness.

And yet he had it when the distracted girl he was going out to dinner with kissed him when he walked her home.

He could not believe it.

He wrote her name in the Death Note, and kept on the lookout for more troublesome citizens who were passing the disease around. All the while forgetting about his own.

How could he, when Ryuk was reminding him constantly...

"Any day now." he would say gleefully. "Then I have to find something else to keep me entertained."

"Oh, poor you." Light snapped, as he stared out the window.

He was constantly itchy and irritable. All he wanted to eat was potato chips, and his television was always on. He snapped at his mother and he snapped at poor Matsuda.

The world did not know their god was dying.

Some would've been happy, would've held parties in the streets. Others would mourn.

Of course, there would be others...

Mikami were already dead. His Death Note sat inside his desk drawer, and he hadn't looked at it since he put it in.

He didn't care to contact Misa anymore. Matsuda mentioned he visited her from time to time, but Light didn't really care. He had always been superior.

So many followers, and yet he would die without anyone really caring about his whole self. Either people knew him as Light Yagami, the perfect student and Task Force member, fighting to catch Kira, or they didn't see his face. They only saw him as a god.

It was one or the other.

He supposed some people were lucky; being able to die with people knowing them.

He never had been close to someone, and at the back of his mind, he was jealous of others for it.

Maybe he could tell Matsuda.

That made him laugh.

Yes. Yes, he should tell Matsuda. Grinning gleefully, he imagined how the conversation would go, and how Matsuda would react.

Yes, it made him cackle for hours.

Or Misa! Yes, that would be funny...

Too bad he couldn't tell Ryuzaki. He was already dead.

"Yes, Ryuzaki, you were right...I'm Kira! What do you think about that?"

His high-pitched cackles filled the house, but there was no one to her them.

No one really knew Light Yagami. He didn't even know himself anymore.

So many followers, and Light died alone, with his head against the window and a small dose of regret in his heart.


	8. Chapter 8

**To Die Alone**

**Chapter 8: BB**

Beyond Birthday liked to laugh.

Sometimes, he noticed, it annoyed his neighbors.

He supposed it wasn't really fair of them to yell...they had much more to be upset about then someone _laughing. _

They were in prison, for heaven's sake, that was something to be upset about, rather than someone's _laughter._

They dropped like flies.

It was quite terrifying, it seemed, for his neighbors. The man on his right had even resorted to tears, but Beyond Birthday wouldn't know.

He just laughed.

He didn't really know what was going on, no one did. The guards(the few that were left) didn't bother to tell them, they just whispered about things that echoed into warbled mindless talk around the building.

B figured it out by watching.

The man across from him. He begged and he pleaded, he even cried to B for help. He would cough, and moan, and his skin turned yellow.

So the prisoners were getting it first...B mildly wondered when it was going to be his turn.

Well, might as well get it all out.

So he laughed.

When Beyond Birthday caught the disease, he barely noticed, because he was laughing so hard.

He died on a warm morning, slumped beside his bed, a grin still on his pale face.

The last thing he thought about was L, and how it would've been nice to have some company before he died.


	9. Chapter 9

**To Die Alone**

**A/N: One of my few Author's Notes for this story...anyway, school has started again so I apologize in advance for late updates and how late this one was .**

**I don't own Death Note.**

**I apologize if this chapter is a bit of ramble-style or doesn't really make sense. I had a bad evening and really wanted to write something and chose this. If you don't like it please excuse it and I'll try and do better in the next chapter. **

**Please review!**

**-o-o-o-o**

**Chapter 9: Matt**

Matt generally regarded himself as a simple guy. Wake up, eat if there was anything in the cabinets, smoke, play video games, smoke, and then do whatever Mello wanted him to do.

It was only before he went that he realized how incredibly complex he was.

He was so empty.

"My name is Mail Jeevas."

He was a genius, a kid from Wammy's House. He had a best friend named Mello that he wouldn't leave for anything.

"My best friend's name is Mihael Keehl."

His parents were dead and he was a smoker. He liked to play video games and he was quite good with computers.

"My friend liked chocolate and guns and he went by Mello."

Mello was in the Mafia and Matt had told him to leave.

Of course Mello never listened.

"I go by Matt."

He would hack, alone in the apartment that felt like it would collapse on its structures at any moment. Peeling walls, stained carpet, and dirty windows. Trash everywhere.

"Mello has been dead for a week and he is buried around the corner."

Mello was dead and he was empty and alone.

And so very, very cold.

Matt's clothes were dirty because he hadn't bothered to wash them. He hadn't bothered to eat or move.

The last time Matt got up was to watch the burial of his best friend under the church around the block. It was the best spot the last of his money could buy.

He had not cried because he knew Mello would snort and say, "Grow a pair already."

But his sad eyes would betray what he was really trying to say.

Matt didn't even know if he _could_ cry.

He had been so detached that he didn't realize he was going to die of the same thing that had taken Mello until it was too late for help.

No one knew where he was.

All he wanted was to say all the things he never got to say to Mello before his hand fell from Matt's.

The gamer swallowed hard.

Suddenly he became so unbearably thirsty it clogged his mind, but Matt did not move from his hunched spot on the couch.

He didn't really want to try to put it off anymore. Matt was going to die.

A hoarse chuckle escaped his lips.

It was certainly not the way he'd imagined going. He had thought he would die in some Mafia shooting Mello dragged him in to.

Instead, like Mello, he felt the agony of dying while you were still alive.

Matt managed to heave himself off the couch and dragged his feet to Mello's room, where all his things sat perfectly in place.

The gamer drew a shaky hand and lit a cigarette.

Christ, he missed Mello. He wanted Mello. He wanted his best friend and he wanted to cry.

Matt drew in a shaky breath of cigarette smoke.

"Mello." he said croakily, and crumpled to the floor.

-o-o-o

**Horrible ending D:**

**Please review...they make my day better when it has sucked. I would appreciate it very much :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Guys, I am SO SORRY for the wait D: I've been incredibly busy and I know a lot of you wanted Near next…and I couldn't think of anything. But I did, so here this is XD Enjoy!**

**Sorry if this is really depressing, I'm kinda angsty right now :/**

**I don't own Death Note.**

**Please review!**

-o-o-o

Chapter 10: Near

The world was so white, and yet it could be so dark.

All that Nate River saw when he closed his eyes was blackness.

The room had become blinding to his ailing eyes. The floor reflected light, and he had stumbled over old toys. The bright white windows and walls no longer seemed so comforting.

It was painful to see.

So as the room got dusty, he drew the curtains and retreated under the bed.

He kept himself company because he did not know where anyone else was.

A few times he had gone through the place, reaching up to pull down the door handle and walking through the silent and dark halls. The ends of his pajamas dragged behind him, and a sad-looking teddy bear dangled from one hand.

It was empty.

He would return to his bleached room. In some sick way it reminded him of heaven when in fact it was hell.

Absolute hell.

He could still hear the screams echoing off the walls, but the boy did not cry.

He only blinked at the wall with big black eyes.

When Nate River started to cough no one came to help.

When Nate River's weak voice floated through the halls, asking for anyone, no one came to help.

When Nate River died, he was all alone.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Please don't hate me for killing Matsuda. I already hate myself for it. XD**

**It can be interpreted different ways on what Matsuda's "growing up" entails, but I leave that up to you ^.^**

**I don't own Death Note. Please review!**

**-o-o-o**

**Chapter 11: Touta Matsuda**

Matsuda regarded himself and was generally known as a happy guy.

A bit stupid, and pretty happy.

Someone once remarked that he was like a child. That he couldn't seem to grow up.

Sometimes, Matsuda was grateful that no one ever really cared.

It was easier to slip under the radar when he made a mistake, and no one noticed when his smile faltered some days because he was sad.

Matsuda got lonely, though, and hoped that one day someone would care.

It had been two years since he last had that internal wishing session, and it hadn't come true.

So Matsuda stuffed it down and didn't bring it up again.

He was just stupid, happy Matsuda.

When Matsuda caught the disease going around and found out he had about one night left to live...

He broke down, first.

Then Matsuda grew up.

He stopped crying and grew up, and there was no one there for him to share his last moments with.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Soichiro**

Soichiro Yagami would never have thought in a million years that he would get caught in a drinking competition.

But there he was, downing shots like there was no tomorrow.

It was very probable there wasn't.

The competition had started with some man he didn't know, someone who he had never seen before in his life. Soichiro didn't know why he did it and knew his wife was waiting for him at home but once he started he just couldn't stop.

_Slam_.

Another one down on the bar, and it was refilled.

There was quite a crowd gathering to see the spectacle, but as the night wore on, the crowd slowly dissipated.

Eventually, the man he was drinking against tossed a couple bills on the table, slid off his stool, and stumbled out the door.

But Soichiro kept going.

"Hey, man. We're closing."

_Slam_.

Soichiro wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Take your money and go."

"It's not right of you to judge me." Soichiro rasped. "You're the damn bartender!"

"I ain't judging nobody, buddy. Just get out of here, okay?"

So Soichiro left and managed to find his way home. He pounded on the door and a light flicked on in the living room.

The door opened.

"Where have you been?" Sachs asked, not angry, worry in her eyes.

Soichiro pushed past her and promptly emptied all his drinks on the living room floor.

"At least someone cares."

Then Sachiko laughed at him, and he swung a fist at her. It went right through because there was no Sachiko anymore, he did not have anybody waiting for him at home.

He was just so tired.

It had all gone to hell. L was gone, the Task Force was gone, it was all gone.

He was the only one left.

But that was soon to change, Soichiro thought. Soon there would be nothing left.

It was a disgusting way to die, shoving the tissue up his nostrils.

Someone with the infection had coughed on the tissue he was going to blow his nose with a few days ago, and he had kept it for a moment like this when there was nothing left.

It spread through his system and finally he had peace.

But as Soichiro fell to the floor he was sick of himself.

He was sick of life.

Maybe he was a coward, taking the easy way out, but at least he could see his family again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Aizawa**

Aizawa loved his family more than anything in the world.

He based his whole life off of them, and at work, he was only away from them.

Eriko and Yumi, his wife and daughter.

Aizawa knelt, his knee pressing into the damp mud. He could feel it soaking through his trousers, but chose not to notice.

Carefully, he placed the two bouquets on the ground.

"You are still my life." he whispered, and stood up.

Aizawa, truthfully, didn't have much to go on when Eriko and Yumi died. Maybe that was why the disease took him so easily.

Either way, he just wanted to see their faces again.


End file.
